Only The Strongest Will Survive

“One loss I let by. Just one. Not two! You guys are falling apart! What is this? We’re on home turf and we’ve got loyal fans rooting for us and you let them down with another fucking loss! Do you want the cup or not? Because the way you are playing makes me feel like you guys don’t.” Coach Julien gave us all an earful that night after our second game in the series…and second loss. An embarrassing one to boot. “You lose the captain and you fall apart…now get your act together!” Julien left the room steaming, leaving the rest of us to peel our equipment off in silence, going over our loss.

Zdeno was released today after curing his dehydration but was not fit to play till our third game sadly. The guy was himself though when I had gone to see him with Tuukka yesterday, sitting up and chatting despite having a pale complexion. He wanted to get back out on the ice with us, you could see it in his face and I didn’t blame him. We all knew how he felt; it was never an easy position to be in. I threw my equipment into the back of the car, starring absentminded.

“Is there anyone awake over here?” I turned to see Tuukka looking at me with a smile, placing his stuff next to mind.
“Nope. Already asleep.” I answered. He chuckled and kissed me before closing the trunk.
“I can see that. Better hurry home then.” I nodded slowly as I got into the passenger seat, knowing exhaustion wasn’t the only reason for why I was so quiet right now.
“Tuukka?” I asked.
“Yeah?”
“Can you drop me off at my brother’s? I haven’t seen him in ages. Him and my mother…I…feel like I should.”

Tuukka sighed.
“I think you should save that for a different day Roxanne. It’s extremely late and you look like you’re going to fall over. You’re not exactly going to be the best company.” Sighing, I stared out the window.
“I guess, I just have no clue when I can though! I have no day I can fit in visiting my family.”
“Remember what I told you awhile ago when you first started? That you have to take sacrifices to be in the NHL and one of those was leaving behind family and friends for months? I only see my family once a year now but I’ve been able to deal with that cause I’m playing professional hockey.” Tuukka looked over at me. “Are you rethinking…your career?”

I looked over at Tuukka solemnly.
“I am Tuuk. I only signed a one year contract and it’s going to be up by the summer and then I’ll be a free agent and who knows who will be there to pick me up but in all honesty…I’m not sure if I want to be picked up.” I looked back out the window. “Looking back on this year I realized how fucked up the NHL made me. I was doing okay before entering and then I almost killed myself and now almost killed someone.” My eyes dropped to the floor of the car, speaking out all the uncertainty that had been clouding my head since yesterday and growing worse tonight due to my lack of being able to score. “I’m not sure I’m made for the NHL.”

Tuukka took a hand off the wheel and took my limp one and squeezed it.
“No matter what you chose Roxy, I’ll always be there for you and no matter what you’re doing I’ll be rooting for you.” I gave my boyfriend a sincere smile.
“Thank you Tuukka Rask. I know you already know this, but since the first day you played in Boston, I have been rooting for you through everything and even if you have the worst loss in the league, you’re going to be my number one goalie. Always.”

“I haven’t forgotten that Micky.”

*****

I looked at the little calendar within my phone, looking all the dates I had on there and trying to figure out how to fit in everything I had on my plate. My next therapy session was on April 24th…that was a week away and Erika’s first trial was on the 25th, the day after, and I felt my heart hammering in my chest. I had gotten nowhere with the last piece of evidence that I knew was within my grasp but the issue was what it was that was within my grasp.

I could legit hear the ticking of a clock in my head.

Closing my phone, my hands began to shake a little as I stared out the plane window onto the ground below on our flight to Montreal.
“ROXXAAAAANNE!” I jumped in surprised as Brad Marchand slid into the empty seat next to me, recently vacated by Tuukka.
“Shit Marchand! Way to give me a heart attack!” Brad snickered.
“It’s my specialty.”
“What the hell Marchand, I leave for the bathroom and I come back to you chilling in my seat like you own it.” Brad looked up with a smirk.
“You’ve been hogging Micky for too long for yourself.”

“No I haven’t, now give me my seat.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Senkin pikku paska!” Tuukka cursed before wrestling the shrimpy Canadian, causing me to erupt in laughter at their immaturity. In the end, Brad won his ability to continue sitting in Tuukka’s seat and yelled at the Scandinavian off to find Brad’s seat to take. “Enjoy some bonding time with Bergeron! It’s been awhile!” He then swirled back and winked at me. “What’s up Roxy? We’re on the same team but we might as well call each other strangers.”

I rolled my eyes and looked at the agitator who was giving me his typical toothy grin.
“Stop being a drama queen Brad, you know you’re one of my best friends.”
“I better be or I’ll cry.” It was at this point where Lucic looked around his seat at Marchand.
“Cry like you did in Toy Story 3?”
“Lies Looch! I never cried in that!” I burst out laughing at that memory.
“I remember that! You so had a tear rolling down your cheek in that movie! Don’t deny it!” Marchand pouted at me.
“Oh yeah? Well how about the time where you binged on Ben and Jerry’s while watching Titanic and crying a river?”

“I’m a girl, so it’s okay.” I stated back.
“When was that?” Lucic asked me.
“Awhiiiile ago, don’t remember why I was upset…” I thought back on that day over a year ago where I had been in such an upset mood that I watched Titanic just to have an excuse to cry my eyes out. “But it’s not as pathetic as you crying over Toy Story 3.”
“I didn’t cry over Toy Story 3 Roxy! Do you want me to start singing Roxanne!?”
“NO!”
“ROOOOOOXANNE, YOU DON’T HAVE TO PUT ON THE RED LIGHT!” I whipped around at the sound of Boychuk’s horrible voice. “DAMMIT BOYCHUK! YOU TWO NEED TO STOP BEING TELEPATHIC!”

“THOSE DAYS ARE OVER, YOU DON’T HAVE TO SELL YOUR BODY TO THE NIGHT!” Marchand continued, me retaliating with a good, hard punch into his arm. “OW! Oh fuck! My humerus!”
“Sorry Marchand, but I found that highly humorous.” Recchi stated from behind us. “Pun intended.” I burst out laughing at the old man’s lame joke. Marchand glared at the man.
“Shut up Recchi, you’re so old you could be my grandfather!”

Recchi began to smack Marchand in the head over and over again and I began to die laughing at his cries of pain. Despite my laughter, I felt a tinge of sorrow in my gut, looking at my team and they’re interactions. I loved every single member and the thought of leaving them hurt and I began the traditional torn-up-emotions-inside battle yet again. Stay or leave, stay or leave…what do I play for? For myself? Fans? Teammates? What is the reason I should be playing for?
“Why such the long face Roxy?” Marchand asked, finally getting Recchi to stop harassing him.
“Eh, just shit. Nothing big.” I lied, giving him a smile.

Marchand shook his head.
“Roxanne, you suck a lying. I know when you’re being bothered by something. Like you are now. So talk before I force it out!” I gave Marchand a glare.
“You try anything and you’ll have one pissed off Finn after you.” Marchand scoffed.
“That goalie wont be able to do shit to me.”
“You wanna bet?”
“Yes, because I will win.” I just rolled my eyes.
“Whatever Marchand.”
“What? You know it’s true! You’re boyfriend my be taller then me but I have more mass.”
“That’s just because your bones are retarded like you and are growing out instead of up.”

“LUCIC SHUT UP!”

I burst out laughing at that.
“Nice one Milan! Nice one.”
“Anyways, talk Roxanne.” Marchand demanded and I sighed.
“Not right now Marchand, okay? Later.”
“HA, that’s what she said.” I smacked him. “But you better tell me later, alright? You know I’m paranoid about you now.”
“But you have nothing to worry about, okay? I will tell you because you’re my best friend and care a lot.” I saw a flicker of emotion cross Marchand’s face, something that I couldn’t get my finger on.

“You know I do because someone has to.” I looked at Marchand oddly, finding that comment weird for him.
“What do you mean?” Marchand got up from the seat rather quick, as if embarrassed by something.

“Nothing.”

*****

It was the third period and I jumped out of the bench and hit the ice, skating hard for the puck. It was tied 2-2 and I wanted us to win desperately. We had to. We needed to! I stole the puck from Gionta on my charge for the net, and passed it up to Lucic and made my way to the goal, ready to receive a pass and top shelf it. I began to fight off Subban who was being the ass as usual. Finally succeeding in ridding my self for a short moment of the prick, I managed to scoop up the lonely puck and desperately smashed it hard towards the goal.

I screamed in triumph as it flew past Carey’s glove and hit the back of the net, the light going of signaling we were now in the lead. I jumped into my teammates arms in happiness. As I skated the length of the bench, fist bumping everyone, I heard coach call out.

“Let’s go for another guys! You’ve got this!”

*****
*Marchand’s POV*

“Ahhh, a 4-2 win against Montreal…I think this sure calls for a mini vacation.” Marchand pulled his Bruins sweatshirt over his head. Despite being spring and the months edging towards summer, April in Lake Placid, New York was rather chilly.
“Yeah, mini is one word. We’re only staying here for a day. Then going back and playing Montreal again in the same place.” Marchand didn’t even bother to look over at Lucic.
“Yeah, well I’m not going to think about that right now.” Instead, Marchand began to think about the redheaded girl who was off on the other side of the Olympic Center with Rask, laughing and smiling away.

Marchand tore his eyes off of Roxy at a sudden rustling sound, seeing Boychuk joining the duo munching on a Snickers and Bergeron eating Twizlers.
“Love destroying my diet.” Boychuk muttered.
“Hear on that.” Marchand answered, going in for Bergeron’s Twizlers. “Except I feel the need for more then just a freaking sugar binge. Would it be logical to get drunk tonight?”
“And prance around in the hotel in nothing but a towel looking like an idiot? Yeah, logical.” Bergeron said.

“He always looks like an idiot, even when sober.” Boychuk joked. Marchand just shoved another Twizler into his mouth in frustration. Always an idiot, huh? Maybe that’s why Roxanne wouldn’t go for him.
“Hey! That was my last one!” Bergeron started, looking into his empty bag.
“Tough luck.” Marchand said, gobbling up the cherry candy.
“You seem pissed off as hell.” Lucic added in, snickering at Bergeron’s dejected face over the loss of candy. At least you didn’t lose the girl you liked for nearly a year to a man who nearly killed her.

“You could say so.” Marchand said. “But it’s nothing.”
“Are you going to go all hulk on the world? Throw milk crates?” Lucic asked.
“No, that’s Rask’s specialty.” Throw a milk crate at him…Marchand thought at Boychuk’s comment.
“He’d just insult people till they lash out and with some unknown strength, beat their asses to a pulp.” Bergeron said. “It’s how he works.”
“It is, cause I’m the agitator of the team.” Marchand said, turning to head towards the building. “Gonna go walk around the rink, maybe bump into the reminiscent old men.” Leaving the other guys behind, Marchand walked towards the glass doors but stopped at a voice.

“Marchy!” He turned around to see Roxanne and Rask, arms around each other coming over. “Enjoying yourself? You seem so pissed off at the world.” Roxanne continued. “Not your usual self and you’re not with Bergy and Boychuk! What is this?”
“It’s nothing, you doing okay?” Roxy nodded.
“Yeah I am, off to find Recchi and Timmy though, last time I saw them they were recalling the 1980 Olympics to the media. Those old coots.” Marchand chuckled.
“They’re so old, they probably can recall going to hockey games in a horse and carriage.” Roxy laughed as she walked through the doors.
“I’ll tell them you said that!”

Marchand watched Roxy go, sighing a little.
“Ever since Roxanne’s little hospital visit, you’ve been aggravated at the world. Kind of help but begin to a wonder.” Marchand turned and looked at Rask who was looking at him with his arms crossed and with pity, something that made Marchand boil a little bit on the inside. He didn’t need someone’s fucking pity.
“Wonder about what?” He asked, with a little more heat then he intended.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you.” Rask cut right to the point instead of fucking around.

Marchand glared at him.
“Why would I be fucking jealous?”
“See? The fact that you’re getting more and more angry at me for mentioning it just gives it away. You like Roxanne and have for awhile.” Marchand looked away from Rask and up at the flapping German flag hanging just above them.
“Possibly.” Was all he said.
“C’mon man, why so pissed off at me about it? And don’t deny that, cause I know you are; the night after seeing Roxy at the hospital, that day at practice when you helped her off the floor, and now?”

Marchand whipped his eyesight back to the goalie and his teammate even during their years in the Bruins AHL team in Providence and was now suddenly someone Brad Marchand just didn’t want to look at.
“I’m pissed off because I had trusted you with Roxanne’s welfare from the beginning. The only reason I was okay with it is because I knew I could trust you with her and that you wouldn’t do anything stupid to hurt her. I liked her a lot and only wanted her to be fucking happy.”

Marchand began to spit out all the poisonous thoughts that had been plaguing his head for months now.
“But I realized how fucking wrong I was when I found her bleeding to death in the bathroom after cutting her entire arm opened because you wanted a fucking break from her! What were you thinking!? She loves you and you just totally blew that out the window, didn’t you? What pissed me off was that she gave you a second chance and here I am, wanting to comfort her when you weren’t there in more then just a friend cause I knew I wouldn’t have left her when she needed me.”

Rask gave a startled look, dumbfounded by what just spat out of the agitator’s mouth. But then the Finn’s complexion darkened.
“You don’t know anything about our relationship Marchand. Don’t accuse me of anything when you don’t know shit.”
“I know all I need to know just by looking at her. Fuck up again Rask and I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“You think I didn’t beat myself up over all of that!? You think I haven’t been doing my best to make sure I don’t lose her again!? You’re not the only one hurting and don’t act like you’re not the only one who cares about Roxy.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one.” Rask just glared at Marchand, opened his mouth, but shut it again before charging angrily through the doors, Marchand glaring at his retreating back. Rask stopped again before looking back at the forward.

“If you liked her and cared about her so much, then why didn’t you ask her out long before I did?”
“Because someone beat me to the punch.” Marchand snapped back. “You just happened to be one day too early.” Rask then left after that response, leaving Marchand fuming on the staircase. He then quickly turned at the sound of footsteps to see Boychuk standing there with a sympathetic smile.
“You two are certainly not helping with team moral.”
“Shut up Boychuk.” Marchand snapped, brushing past him.

“Hey Brad!” Marchand stopped at Boychuk’s calling of his first name. Turning around, he looked at the defensemen.
“Yeah Johnny?”
“I’m here for you man, no homo, this has got to suck. But try and get through it okay? If anything, I don’t think Roxy and Rask are going to end in the near future.” The statement just hit his gut and he hated how true it was.
“Thanks man…I know I’m acting irrationally but I just can’t help it.”

*ROXY’S POV*

“Thought I’d find you here.” I said in the doorway to the old locker room with its ancient rickety wooden bench encircled the white and red tiled walls. Tim Thomas turned away from the pictures on the wall and smiled at me.
“What would make you think that?”
“Because I know you wouldn’t leave this building till every section has been stared at by your old man eyes.” I joked, walking into the room and looping a finger through the old, rusty red hook that once held an US Olympic hockey jersey. Who’s, I didn’t know, but someone who went down in history, someone on the Miracle Team.

“I’m not that old Roxanne.” Timmy said, looking at me with a smile on his face. His playoff beard was already getting bushy.
“Keep telling yourself that.” I sat down on the bench and looked around me. “You remember watching this game?” I asked.
“Yeah, I was about six years old, sitting on the floor in my house in just awe at the game. It’s was then that I told everyone who would listen to me that I was going to be a goalie and not just any goalie, an Olympic goalie.” Timmy chuckled at the memory. “Took some time but I made it…”
“And also an NHL goalie as well.”
“Much to everyone’s surprise.”

I began to scuff at the floor with my shoes, pondering over this talk. I was living the dream, yes I was, a dream that every hockey player had. My best friends’, my boyfriend, and my father. I was living my father’s dream.

But was it my dream?

Was it really my dream to be here?

“Timmy.” I started, the older man looking at me, ready to listen to everything I had to say. “What would you say if someone was to approach you and say that they no longer wanted to be in the NHL, like they weren’t sure if they were truly doing what was right and that it was causing more harm then good and were really thinking about letting down fans, teammates, and family by giving…it all up?” Timmy blinked, easily looking through what I had said and waved his hand, asking me to follow him. I got up and followed the goalie towards the famous rink, the chill of hockey hitting me and the unique smell filling my nose.

“I can see right through you Roxy.” Tim said, sitting down on one of the old benches where Miracle on Ice team once sat. “You’re afraid to continue on, afraid of letting everyone down, afraid of letting yourself down.” He looked at me, putting an affectionate arm around my shoulder like an uncle. “You’re not sure if you’re living your right dream but I know you are. I have ever seen you more alive then when you are on the ice. Everyone sees it and I know you do yourself though you’re your doubting it. Everyone can doubt themselves, especially under tremendous pressure and especially after everything you went through.”

I stared out at the ice, taking in what Timmy was saying and trying to also imagine the sight it must have been when America crushed the USSR team, the best team in the world, in a historical game.
“You think I’m made for this league? This lifestyle?”
“Hell yeah Roxy. You’ve got the makings of a Hall of Famer. You’re just in the beginning and like all the great players, you’re having the second thoughts and the doubts. I had them when I first started-”
“But now you’re the top goalie in the NHL and coming close to being one of the best the Bruins have had since Cheevers.”
“And was also once sitting there thinking like you were Roxy.”

I let those words sink in as Tim got up.
“If you leave Roxy, the Bruins will be losing a valuable player and Boston will be missing you terribly.” He then walked back into the main building, leaving me to sit on the bench alone and stared at the ice.

Mike Eruzione, Jim Craig, Rob McClanahan…they had started out as just random kids, playing hockey in their backyard and at their town rinks. Just like I did, just like many I knew. They were college students, like I was, two of them walking the same streets I now do. They could have been like me though, done nothing to push themselves but they didn’t. Instead, they pushed themselves, pushed themselves to the very limit and went out and made a name for themselves, made history, made a miracle. Did they ever have doubts? Did they want to quit? I’m sure they did…but they didn’t and the proof was here, where I was sitting.

They were strong, strong enough to survive. Only the strongest will survive. If I didn’t continue playing, if I didn’t continue down the road I was going, I would then always ponder of what could have been. Who knows what was down this road…a gold medal? A Stanley Cup? Awards? The Hall of Fame? I’m sure those guy didn’t know and were glad to have gotten to the end to see what was waiting for them. What was I thinking, wanting to give up that opportunity?

Only the strongest will survive.

Digging into the bag that I had, I pulled out a black sharpie, looking around. No one was present and I bent down onto a knee and wrote those words under the bench.

*****

I sat in the hotel room, angrily shutting off the TV before me. I was alone in the room, for Marchand had left, to where I had no clue. He was acting extremely odd…and so was Tuukka. But what had finished being explained on TV drove that thought away, the new headline talking about the first trial between Erika and Sean. It didn’t sound like it went far…or well.

Running out of tiiiime, running out of TIIIIME!

My phone began to buzz and I stared at the caller ID and felt myself cry out in joy at who it was, glad for such a welcomed distraction.
“DAVID BACKES, WHAT IS UP!? I haven’t heard from you in forever! That makes either me or you sound like a terrible friend.” Backes’ hearty laugh echoed through the phone.
“Hey Micky! I’m going to blame the bad friend thing on you since I can.”
“Oh thanks Dave.” I said. “Such a loving friend.”
“I don’t know though, cause we have barely kept in touch, only through Facebook really.” I laughed.
“Oh Facebook, the alternative to face-to-face conversations!”

Hearing Backes’ voice again since the All-Star Weekend was wicked uplifting.
“Well it’s kind of hard when our team only plays each other once a year and we’re always states apart. I’m sure they’re other people from Super Skills you have trouble keeping in contact! I know I have an issue.” I laughed at the truth behind that statement.
“Tell me about it, I haven’t seen Skinner or Staal in ages. Carey I now see thanks to this whole series…Erika? Yeaaah…” Backes let out a chuckle.
“Don’t tell me you guys are still bitter to each other! I thought you were friends!” I sighed.
“We are. In my view. To hers though, its been skewed from everything that’s been going on.”
“I see that, can’t believe everything. I seriously don’t believe that’s her. I’ve played that Morrison ass and god damn did I not like just the look he can give you. He’s out for vengeance, I hope they can lock him up good.” I nodded my head, even though he couldn’t see it.

“You’re not the only one! I’ve been working had trying to get evidence. I’m so damn close yet so far away with the one missing piece they need. And all of this has sort of…had to make me neglect Erika and she thinks I abandoned her. I feel horrible but it had to be done.”
“I can understand that, it’ll all turn out well in the end.”
“One can hope.” I soon ended up continuing my chat with Backes for nearly a half hour, soon ending up draped over the bed like a cat, feeling sleep drifting into my conscious. Backes asked about the suicide accusations and my mysterious hospital visit and I confined in him what had happened.

The man had done a lot for me at Super Skills. It was only fair, really.
“Roxy…you better be getting help. I don’t like hearing that.” Sighing, I answered his concern.
“I am Dave, no worries. I’m alive and I learned from my mistake.”
“Good, I’m so fucking glad you didn’t succeed! Scares the living shit out of me at the thought that you might have though. Don’t forget that you know have friends all over the league for you okay?”
“I wont Backes…I might have for a moment but I sure as hell haven’t now.”

“Good Roxy. Cause if you left, there would be one less kickass player in the league, and after everything that is happening to Erika, we don’t need a loss of good people.” I smiled at those words.

“I might have been thinking against coming back but I completely forsaken that. I was given this chance for a reason, might as well go through with it.”